


my eyes are filling with salt (oh, this is no one's fault)

by priorwalter



Series: i know that we can survive now that we made it [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priorwalter/pseuds/priorwalter
Summary: There is a track meet on Monday. Today is Sunday, and Neil is not going to the track meet. He wants to go. Coach Jenkins is relying on him, she said so, but Neil has caught the worst cold he can remember having and he can’t move without feeling dizzy. Jenkins says that they’re supposed to call her in advance if they can’t go to meets.He still hasn’t spoken to her.He has been staring at his phone all day. Stuart is on a trip to California, so he’s sleeping now and can’t do it for Neil. Neil will have to contact him too, because the school needs a call from Neil’s guardian when he’s absent. Except, he can’t do it.**Neil has a Bad Day.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: i know that we can survive now that we made it [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1440037
Comments: 19
Kudos: 432





	my eyes are filling with salt (oh, this is no one's fault)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my loves, this is a sequel and you most definitely have to read the first one before this fic! Sorry this took like half a year to get out. I know I promised more of this AU way back when but. Life.
> 
> Anyway the first half of this fic was written in August and the rest like 3 days ago, I wasn’t going to post it but I’m having like, one of the worst days on record so I thought Neil should too. (It turns out ok in the end don’t worry.) 
> 
> Title from Light Bends by Ashni.
> 
> Thanks to Asas for bullying me into productivity, also shoutout to Kev for getting me through the terrible thing that was happening to me in the summer that made me write this fic. Anyway. Enjoy!

There is a track meet on Monday. Today is Sunday, and Neil is not going to the track meet. 

He wants to go. Coach Jenkins is relying on him, she said so, but Neil has caught the worst cold he can remember having and he can’t move without feeling dizzy. Jenkins says that they’re supposed to call her in advance if they can’t go to meets. She had to pull some strings to get Neil into a couple of the events. She wanted him to go because she said he has potential, and she believes in him. Now, Neil can’t go and her efforts were for nothing.

He still hasn’t spoken to her.

He has been staring at his phone all day. Stuart is on a trip to California, so he’s sleeping now and can’t do it for Neil. Neil will have to contact him too, because the school needs a call from Neil’s guardian when he’s absent. Except, he can’t do it. 

Neil doesn’t like phone calls, and he barely notices his sickness beneath the paralyzing anxiety that hasn’t left him since he got sick. It’s all he can think about. Coach will be pissed if he doesn’t show up without giving her a warning, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

He did work up the nerve to call her on Saturday afternoon. All of the kids on the track team have her number. He called her, but there was no answer, and he was too scared to leave a message, and now he’s too afraid to call her back. 

Andrew is also out for the weekend and Neil doesn’t want to bother him. It was Abby’s birthday on Friday, so their family went out. Andrew said they were going to get back home late Sunday night. He hasn’t spoken to Andrew since Saturday morning. His texts go unreplied to and unopened. The notification on his phone is enough to send a shot of anxiety through them; the little red number is another person he has to reply to. It feels like an unbearable amount of pressure. 

Since school started, Neil’s anxiety has been manageable. There was a rocky start, but it hasn’t been this bad in a long, long time. The haze of anxiety he’s been in for days has left him fried and exhausted in a way being sick doesn’t and he just wants to sleep, but the phone in his hand stops him. 

It should be easy, really, to call Coach Jenkins, but he doesn’t know how the conversation is going to go. She said that the number she gave was her home phone, not her cell phone, so he can’t be sure if it’ll be her who answers. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to say hello first or she is, and he doesn’t know if she’ll ask him what’s wrong or he’s just supposed to say it. His heart thuds in his chest just thinking about it.

He could text Matt, but the thought of even texting anyone brings tears into his eyes. He just wants it to be _over._ He doesn’t want to have to talk to anyone or tell the school about anything. He wants to sleep and he wants his sinuses to stop hurting. 

His phone rings. It startles him so much he drops it, but when he picks it back up with shaking hands, he finds that it’s Andrew. He wants to answer, and he knows talking to Andrew will help, but it fills him with dread. He doesn’t answer. 

The rest of the night is spent trying to calm his breathing and playing the most abrasive music he can find in the playlists Allison has shown him. Ada soon comes into his room and tries to calm him down. It does a little to distract him, but not much.

He falls asleep around two thirty in the morning, exhausted from his sickness and the anxiety. He only wakes up when there’s a knock at his door. He blinks awake to find Matt, who frowns. 

Right. He should have texted Matt to say he didn’t need to drive him to school. Neil just burrows further into his bed. “Hey, are you okay?” Matt asks cautiously. He doesn’t come any farther into the room.

Neil shakes his head, but realizes Matt probably can’t see it and mumbles, “‘M sick.” It hurts to move his face because of his sinuses and his brain feels fuzzy. 

“Did you tell your coach you can’t make the meet?” Matt asks, and Neil doesn’t respond. “I’ll tell her when I get to school, don’t worry about it. Does Stuart know you’re staying home?” 

“No,” Neil says.

“I have to get to school, but I’ll get Stuart to call and I’m going to send Dan over to watch you, alright? She’s working from home for a couple of days and I don’t want you to be alone.”

Neil doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want Dan here, she’s not as familiar as Matt or Stuart or Andrew and she’s going to hover over him all day and he wants everything to be over. 

“Neil? I need to know if you’ve understood me. I have to go, but Dan will be here in a bit.” Neil grunts in assent. 

Matt goes and returns with a water bottle before leaving for good. Neil doesn’t touch it. The thought of eating or drinking anything makes his stomach churn. 

An indeterminable amount of time later, Dan knocks on his door. “Neil? Hey, buddy. Matt says you’re not feeling great.”

Neil groans indistinctly but sits up because it makes his sinuses hurt less. He raises an eyebrow at her, encouraging her to speak. 

“Do you want to come into the living room where I can see you? It might make you feel better to be out of here,” she says, gesturing at the room. Neil nods but doesn’t move. She waits for a few seconds and leaves. Neil changes into cleaner clothes and goes into the living room. Dan is typing away on her laptop on the couch. Neil nods in greeting. He finds a bag of cold medicine and lozenges on the counter and considers thanking her for it, but his throat is too sore. 

Neil still feels fried and hollow from the weekend. He’s missing a track meet right now and his coach was relying on him, and he didn’t even warn her. He didn’t even manage to call his uncle. Andrew’s text messages are still unopened on his phone in his room. He pops a lozenge and curls up against the arm of the loveseat. It hurts his face too much to lie down. 

An hour or two passes in a blink. Neil’s insides feel like jelly, but he’s not sure if it’s the illness or how anxious he feels. Dan asks, “You should eat breakfast. I know you don’t feel well, but you’ll feel worse. Have you taken any medicine?”

It seems like too many words all at once. Neil feels overwhelmed. He doesn’t open his eyes and says nothing, instead pushing his face into the back cushions of the loveseat. It’s soft and warm and comforting, a balm for the sharp fear inside him. 

“Neil, you need to eat,” Dan says softly with more worry in her voice. “You can go back to sleep right after.” 

“Mm,” Neil says without moving. 

“I’ll make you whatever you want, I just need you to get up,” Dan says. The loveseat shifts as she sits down. “How are you feeling?” 

Neil shakes his hands where Dan can’t see. The sound of her voice is grating and stressful and he wants Matt or Andrew to come home, but if he tells her that she might think he’s being rude, but he doesn’t know her very well and he feels a hundred times worse. He mumbles, “Strawberries,” because they’re his favourite fruit and they’re familiar. 

“Coming right up,” Dan says, sounding relieved. Neil tries to ignore the sounds of her pattering around the kitchen and burrows farther into the cushions. Eventually, she says, “Do you feel like coming to the dinner table?”

Neil considers this. Sitting up makes the pressure in his face lessen, and the loveseat is starting to feel gross. Contrarily, the thought of walking all the way there makes him feel sick. The fact that his sickness is rendering him immobile is enough to motivate him to move, though, so he ambles to the dining room. Dan’s laptop is already there with Dan sitting before it. A few seats away is a bowl full of strawberries. Neil knows he won’t be able to eat all of them.

He gets a spoon from the kitchen to eat the strawberries with. Matt knows he likes to eat them with a spoon, but Matt isn’t there. He pretends not to notice Dan watching him pick at his food, but her stare is completely unsubtle. He leaves a lot of them in the bowl because the strawberries were getting old, and if they’re too mushy it makes him feel sick to chew them. Matt knows that. Andrew and Stuart know that. 

Neil knows he should be grateful Dan is here to watch him and help him, and he’s not mad at her for not knowing everything, not really. He just wants a familiar face while he feels so all-consumingly terrible. A fit of violent coughs overtakes him and he nearly throws up his breakfast. Dan gives him a sympathetic look and he can’t bear to look at her. He puts his bowl in the kitchen and returns to the loveseat. His neck twitches and he shakes his head back and forth. He doesn’t like to do that in front of people he doesn’t know because they look at him strangely, but Neil isn’t awake enough to care about Dan’s opinion. 

Fidgeting and shaking his head usually helps him calm down, but since he’s so sick, it just makes him dizzy, but not being able to resort to his usual coping mechanisms makes him even more anxious. He wonders what’s going on at the track meet. He wonders if Coach Jenkins will kick him off the team. 

“Neil?” Dan asks like she’s said it a few times before, and suddenly Neil realizes she’s standing over him. He flinches violently and turns away. She steps back. “Sorry, bud. Matt says you’re not answering your phone, do you want to talk to him on mine?”

Neil looks at the phone in her hand. He takes it silently from her and holds it up to his ear. “Hi.” 

“Hey, kid. How are you feeling?” 

Neil hums. “Bad.” Then, “Class?”

“It’s lunch. You didn’t look good this morning. I hope Dan’s treating you well, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I know you don’t know her very well.”

“She’s okay,” Neil rasps, earning a smile from Dan. 

“Andrew asked me about you in chemistry. You’re not answering him, either?” Matt’s voice is concerned now. “What’s wrong?”

“Left my phone in my room,” Neil says hoarsely, making sure to sound extra miserable so Matt won’t keep pressing the issue. Andrew would know that Neil hasn’t answered his phone all weekend, but Matt is none the wiser, and Neil doesn’t need his mother henning. 

“I’m sure Dan will get it for you,” Matt says soothingly. “There’s a couple students here so I gotta go, can I talk to Dan for a few seconds?” 

“Yeah, bye,” Neil replies.

  
“Bye. I hope you feel better.” 

Neil gives Dan the phone. She talks to Matt for a few moments before hanging up. She leaves and comes back with Neil’s phone and charger and tosses them to him. Neil picks up his phone and pretends to go on it until she returns to the dining room with her laptop. It buzzes again, but he doesn’t bother opening the message. 

He hates feeling sluggish and slow; with his mother, that meant death. Both his mother and father never let him take cold medicine. If he was going to be strong, he didn’t need it. The habit still hasn’t worn off; the cold medicine goes unopened. He’s afraid of the medicine making him even more out of it. Hopefully Dan doesn’t try to make him take it. 

The rest of the day passes in a similar fashion. Eventually, Neil puts on a movie. It’s one based off of a book Andrew mentioned liking, but he doesn’t pay the slightest bit of attention to it. Dan seems happy that he’s putting effort into something. 

He must have fallen asleep by the end of the film, because he wakes up with a hoarse shout. His breathing is quick and laboured, chest heaving. His hands automatically go to his hair, running through the locks repetitively. Dan comes running into the room, eyes wild, and she asks, “What happened?”

Neil frowns. “Dream.” 

She seems to sense that he won’t say anything else, so she instead says, “Are you hungry?”

He shakes his head. Neil doesn’t usually notice he’s hungry unless his stomach starts to hurt, so Stuart always encourages him to eat if it’s been a while since he last had something, but he doesn’t want… he doesn’t know what about eating makes him feel anxious, but he can’t do it. 

Dan gives him a look of concern, but she doesn’t push. He burrows into the soft loveseat and wishes Dan were gone; she is so noisy. Her keyboard clicks and her feet tap on the floor and her breathing is just a touch too loud and she hums and Neil wonders how he will survive the day. 

For a while, he stares at the little red number on his phone that tells him how many unopened text messages he has. Eventually, it makes him too nervous so he throws his phone aside and tries to sleep; it doesn’t work. His body feels wrung out and exhausted, but he can’t seem to rest no matter what he does. He puts on another movie, selecting it at random, and stares at it, comprehending nothing, until its finish.

He must have fallen asleep eventually because he awakens with a start to the front door closing. He hears two people talking in low voices, but he is too tired to decipher who they belong to. He zones out until the voices draw nearer; he picks up on their conversation. 

A woman’s voice, Dan’s, is saying, “...and he asked for strawberries, but he didn’t eat most of them.” 

A pause. Then, a deep voice Neil immediately recognizes as Andrew’s: “They’re all mushy. He doesn’t like that.”

Dan hums. “He didn’t say anything.”

Silence. Neil dislikes being talked about as if he’s not in the next room over, but he can’t make himself stay angry; he can’t seem to focus on anything for too long. He almost drifts off again before another weight settles on the loveseat. “Neil?” Andrew whispers, leaning towards him.

Neil opens his eyes, just barely. “Drew.” 

“You look like shit,” Andrew says. “Go to bed.” 

Neil huffs, but the sharp exhale makes his chest ache. “Carry me,” he mutters, letting his eyes close again. 

To Neil’s surprise, Andrew does; he takes hold of Neil bridal style and starts towards Neil’s room. Neil loops his arms around Andrew’s neck, trying to make himself less of a deadweight, but it doesn’t do much. The sickness has sapped all of his strength.

“I’m coming to check on you in a bit,” Dan calls out loudly as Andrew and Neil pass her. Her voice is sharp and painful. Neil flinches, the jarring sound of her voice giving him a jolt that feels like physical pain. Andrew begins to whisper to him; only nonsense phrases and reassurances, but the familiarity of his voice and touch are endlessly comforting. Andrew deposits Neil in his bed and crawls in after him. They don’t touch, something for which Neil is grateful in his feverish, overheated state, but he takes the collar of Andrew’s shirt in his weak grip.

“Sorry for ignoring you,” Neil murmurs. “Bad weekend.” 

Andrew hums. “It was more than just the cold,” he says, more of a confirmation of something he already knew than a question. 

“Had to call Coach to tell her I couldn’t go to the meet,” Neil explains, though his voice catches halfway through the sentence. Though the situation is resolved now, even thinking about him makes it feel like the ground beneath him has been taken away. He feels his neck twitch involuntarily, and he shoves his face into his pillow, hoping it will be over soon; his head feels too fuzzy to get a hold on his thoughts. Absurdly, he has to hold back tears. 

Andrew runs his hand through Neil’s (probably gross and sweaty) hair. “I don’t care if you’re having a bad day and you don’t want to talk to me or anyone, that’s fine, but try to reach out and ask for help sometimes,” he says, voice low and soothing. His hand comes to rest on the nape of Neil’s neck. Neil sighs at the familiar, comforting touch.

“Okay,” Neil whispers. “Okay.” 

He drifts in and out of consciousness after that. Eventually, the pain from his sinuses gets too severe; he sits up to try and assuage it. Andrew is gone, but his spot on the bed is still warm. He lets his head fall back and hit the wall, ignoring the stab of pain it gives him. 

“Neil?” Someone asks. Neil cracks one eye open and finds Stuart standing in the doorway. “How are you feeling?”

Neil blinks slowly. Stuart wasn’t supposed to be back until Wednesday. Is he hallucinating? How sick is he? 

“I came home early,” Stuart explains at Neil’s blank look. “Matt said you were really sick, and I was worried. Have you eaten recently?” Neil shakes his head, but it hurts too much; he sinks back into the blankets. Stuart sighs. “I know you don’t want to eat, but you need energy. At least come out into the kitchen and drink some water. Dan’s gone, so you don’t have to worry about her.” 

Neil wants nothing more than to stay in bed forever, but his heavy blankets are starting to feel gross and claustrophobic. He reluctantly follows Stuart into the kitchen, where his uncle gives him a water bottle and a bowl of Ritz crackers. Neil eyes the bowl with disdain but takes it all the same. He looks over to the living room to find Andrew sitting in a nest of blankets and pillows while he searches for something to watch on Netflix. Neil makes himself comfortable beside his boyfriend. Andrew decides on Brave, because he knows Neil likes animated movies and it’s something that they have seen before. 

Neil picks at his crackers and forces himself to drink the water, no matter how terrible it makes him feel. Halfway through the movie, Ada jumps into his lap, which he is grateful for; Nemo and Pascal are avoiding him as they get scared by his frequent sneezing. Andrew threads his fingers through Ada’s thick fur, and she purrs; Neil feels marginally better. 

The rest of the evening passes in relative silence. Neil is not in a talkative mood, and he is half-asleep most of the time anyway. Andrew eventually convinces him to finish off the crackers Stuart gave him. Stuart makes dinner for himself and Andrew, but Neil can barely stomach the smell of the food.

He just wants this to be over; it feels like it will never end. 

It feels like only a few minutes pass before Andrew has to go home. He promises that he’ll be over after school the next day, but Neil doesn’t want him to go. His presence is like a balm for Neil’s aching soul; the world feels less daunting with Andrew at his side. Still, he knows Andrew has to sleep and go to school and see his family. He just wishes it were different.

“So,” Stuart says when it is just the two of them left in the too-big living room. “I suppose the weekend passed in a similar fashion to today.” 

Neil buries his face in the couch cushion. “Sorry I didn’t tell you,” he mutters, though it’s more to placate his uncle than actual remorse.

Stuart sighs. “It’s alright, Neil, I just hate to think of you all alone feeling like that. I’m sorry you missed your track meet too, I know you were looking forward to that.”

Neil shrinks back at the mention of the track meet. He still feels intensely guilty that he didn’t call his coach, even though Matt said it would be okay. “I didn’t tell my coach I couldn’t make it,” he confesses. “I had to call her.” A beat of silence passes. Neil feels like throwing up. “She really wanted me to go.”

“Matt talked to her, don’t worry,” Stuart assures him. “And if she has any problem with you being too sick to stay awake, let alone do long-distance running, then I’ll have some words for her, believe me.”

“Thank you,” Neil whispers after a long pause. 

“Can I put my hand on your shoulder?” Stuart asks. Neil sits up and nods. Stuart gently places his hand on Neil’s shoulder, so light a touch it’s barely there, and says, “I know you were probably going mad over that phone call, and it wouldn’t have helped if you were feverish and sick beyond belief. If anything like that ever happens again, don’t hesitate to call or text or come get me. Even if it’s the middle of the night or I’m in the middle of a meeting with the bloody Queen of England. You’re always my top priority, and I want you to be okay.” 

Neil nods, too choked up to respond. Andrew had said something similar.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Stuart says, leaning back. “I know you won’t like this, but just listen, okay?” He waits for Neil’s nod to keep going. “You’ve come a long way since you started at school this year, but you and I both know it wasn’t easy. I think it would be helpful for you to reconsider seeing a psychologist.” 

Neil’s slightly okay mood vanishes. “No,” he snaps. “I’m not doing that. No.”

“I’m not going to force you to go, but just think about it,” Stuart pleads, crossing his arms. “Don’t just write it off because of your past experiences. I think if we find a good one, it could help you a lot. Please just think about it, won’t you? It might help you prevent situations like this from escalating in the future.” 

Neil doesn’t say anything. He knows that Andrew sees a therapist once a week. Andrew once told him that he didn’t know if he would be alive today without his therapist, Bee, but Neil has never felt suicidal. He doesn’t need it. He can sort through his problems on his own, thank you very much. Still, Stuart looks desperate, so he says, “I’ll think about it.”

Stuart smiles. “That’s all I ask.”

**

Andrew comes over after school the next day, and Stuart takes a day off work. Neil feels no less sick but significantly less awful. Stuart buys fresh strawberries and makes sure there are no too-soft ones in the bowl he makes Neil eat. Neil and Andrew watch the entire first season of Andrew’s favourite show, and Neil manages to laugh at how Andrew recites the badly-written dialogue along with the TV in his droning monotone. 

It’s nice. 

Neil wants to talk to Andrew about what his uncle asked him the night before, but he feels too content to ruin the mood. Right now, he is half-asleep on Andrew’s shoulder while Stuart bakes his ‘world-famous cookies’, as he insists on calling them. Stuart sings badly along to the radio, and his terrible singing voice doesn’t even grate on Neil. Andrew’s parents said that he could stay at Neil and Stuart’s for the night, which means that sleep will come easily.

If Neil looks at it objectively, he can say that he probably needs therapy. His father was an abusive serial killer who, quite literally, tortured him and he can barely leave the house without feeling anxious. Still, it’s a comfort to know that he has a support system of people who love and care about him. 

He goes to bed later that night feeling congested and freezing. In spite of that, he is comfortable; Andrew is playing with his hair with one hand; the other hand is around Neil’s waist, holding him flush against Andrew’s chest. It is warm and safe and familiar and comforting. 

Neil thinks that, eventually, he will be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment, kudos, etc. I’m at carterchilcott.tumblr.com.


End file.
